


Cycle of Vengeance

by sacredsymbol821



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Spoilers, i guess this counts as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacredsymbol821/pseuds/sacredsymbol821
Summary: This is a rewrite of what happens in Azure Moon just after Gronder Field, and how Dimitri comes to realize that vengeance is not the way to attain his goals.
Relationships: None, n/a
Kudos: 3





	Cycle of Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> There are slight spoilers in this fic, and a few mentions of gore/graphic violence. If you haven't played Azure Moon until this point, I suggest you turn back now.

Dimitri could do nothing as Gilbert forcibly held him in place, even as the Imperial Army faded out of view. He would kill Edelgard, and his friends were nothing to him, even being winded, battered and bruised the way he was. He could not find the Professor with Mint Green hair, who seemed to be the only Ghost that did not judge him, or yell at him. He was still looking for Edelgard, seething in barely silent rage on his knees, when he heard a cry from behind him. His instincts told him to turn around, and he whipped out of Gilbert’s grasp to turn around to see that the Professor’s ghost was protecting him from the girl they had picked up a few months before. He did not know her name, and mostly ignored her like he did the other children. He looked on his armor and saw blood. It was not his. There was warmth on his cheek. For a second, Dimitri did not understand why. Then, he saw the Professor’s shoulder and through it, the girl’s sword that had been meant for him. 

“Professor!” Rodrigue yelled, before putting his arms around the girl’s waist and pulling her, causing her to drop the sword- which was deeply embedded . 

He was used to hallucinations, but this was very very specific and new. What made it even more odd was the fact he was not having a headache, like he usually did when this happened and he was awake. 

The Professor was huffing and puffing as the girl screamed at him about how he had murdered her brother or something or the other. He had no doubt he had. His hands were flowing with blood at the moment, most of it the blood of his former classmates. It just showed how much of a monster he had become. 

“Is...is Dimitri alright?” The Professor muttered, voice heavy and obviously trying to hide the pain they were in through gritted teeth. 

Dimitri, for a moment, forgot about Her when he saw the mint hair. 

None of the ghosts in his dreams or hallucination ever cared about his well being. He had made a very grave error, then. He took his gloves off, and held his hand out to the rain. He could feel it dripping down his palm. 

This was not a dream, nor was it a hallucination. This was very much happening in front of him, and he was about to ignore them because of Her. 

He opened his mouth to apologize to the Professor, who was still breathing heavily, and they were still looking at him. They were not looking at him with malice or with anger. They were looking at him with compassion, pity, and, what he could not stand the most, hope. He deserved no such look from a bleeding Professor, who had just taken a sword for him, when he had killed so many they did not know about. Even though they had just seen him kill their own classmates, they were not angry with him. He wanted them to be angry with him. This was causing him to visibly shake.

“Gilbert! Take His Highness somewhere else right now!” He heard Rodrigue say from across from in front of the Professor.

“Dimitri. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” The Professor said. Dimitri could not answer, and allowed Gilbert to lead him away to get his wounds tended to while The Professor stayed there with a sword in their shoulder. 

That night, the ghosts did not haunt him. The Professor’s look of everything they should not have looked at him with did. He wondered, for a second, if he was finally losing even more of his grip on reality, to the point he could not fight well, and then the Ghosts would never let him hear the end of it. 

He left his room, blatantly ignoring Gilbert, to go stand in the rain and stare into the clouds. The ghosts were speaking very loudly behind him, but for once, he could not hear them. He was worried about the Professor, first and foremost, but was afraid he would not be allowed into the Infirmary, and the questions that would be asked if he went there. He was drawn towards the stables, where the echoes of where he had spent that one year tending to the horses did not haunt him. What he was not expecting was Mint Green Hair to appear in the doorway. Their eyes widened in surprise at seeing him, as his eye opened in surprise as well. He did not miss the sling on their shoulder. 

“Professor.” He said, and his voice shook even though he did not wish it too. 

“Hi, Dimitri. How are you feeling?” They asked, as if he was the one that had a sword stabbed through his shoulder. 

“I-” He started, then stopped. 

“Why did you do that?” He snapped at them. He immediately regretted doing so, suddenly. Even though people died in war and he had committed such atrocities, the Professor had tried to save him from an attack they should not have saved him from.

The Professor regarded him, then, never frowning or even narrowing their eyes.

“Because I care about you, Dimitri. And many people do, not just me. You’re my friend, and I’ve had enough of people dying in this awful war.” They answered. 

“But people are going to continue to die, Professor. We are going to continue to kill them. The corpses are going to continue to pile up, and the blood is going to be on our hands.” He replied very sadly. 

“That may be true, and that blood is on our hands, but we cannot dwell on that. As terrible as that sounds, we need to move on, Dimitri. If we don’t, I imagine they would be more angry with us.” The Professor answered.

“You can only guess at what the dead are saying, Professor. From what I hear them say, they call for different things. They call for her head. They call for vengeance.” He replied, but even he was not sure of himself anymore, as his voice was starting to quake. 

“Then, those ghosts are wrong.” The Professor replied. 

It was such a simple sentence, but it somehow shook him to his core. As if on queue, the voices from the dead burst into a cacophany of boos and various yells at their ire at the Professor’s very bad statement, and he put his hands over his ears in an attempt to think. When he put them back down again, he looked straight at the Professor. 

“That girl… is she still alive?” He asked, and the Professor looked at him. 

“Unless Rodrigue did something that I did not want him too.” The Professor answered. 

“I do not understand why she tried to stab you.” They admitted, going to put a hand on their shoulder before stopping.

“I have an idea, but I still must speak to her.” 

“Tonight?” The Professor asked.

“Not tonight. My head is swimming and I have too much to think about.” Dimitri admitted. He was suddenly so very tired, and his eye was drooping, as if a very long nightmmare was finally coming to an end.

“Do you need an escort?” They asked him. 

“No, thank you. I have worried you enough.” Dimitri replied. He went back to his room, and sleep claimed him very quickly.

He awoke and his room was bathed in light. He thought, for a second, that he had died in his sleep. Then, he saw his father and held his breath, waiting for the inevitable. 

“My son.” Lambert said, and his eyes met Dimitri’s. He felt like a small child again, when he had done something wrong and was in his father’s study. 

“I only wish for you to move on.” His father told him. Dimitri let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He waited for his father’s skin to melt away, or his head to fall off, like it did in all his other dreams, and the screaming to begin from behind him. But it didn’t. 

“How?” He asked, but his father was gone as there was a knock on his door. 

“Your Highness?” Dedue asked, and Dimitri nearly pulled the door off its hinges and heard something snap when he opened the door.

“Dedue. Good Morning.” The words sounded very odd on his tongue. He had not greeted anyone in the morning since six years ago.

Dedue bowed, and Dimitri felt the familiar sense of irritation he did at the gesture, but did not comment on it. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I was concerned.” Dedue said simply.

“Your concern was not needed, my friend.” He lied. 

“I believe it was. Yesterday, you were walking around like a husk.” Dedue answered. As he was talking, Dimitri remembered how he had promised Dedue that he would help him rebuild Duscur. The way he had been acting recently did not seem that way. His face set into a frown for his major stupidity.

“Dedue, I owe you an apology.” He began. 

Dedue stared at him like he had grown his other eye back.

“For what, Your Highness?” Dedue asked. 

It was Dimitri’s turn to stare at him as if he’d grown another eye. 

“For treating you and everyone else like they were a waste of space for my own selfish revenge. You all deserved better.” He finished. 

Dedue nodded.

“Apology accepted.” Dedue said slowly.

Dimitri did not know what else to say to him, so he walked past him and down the stairs to his next stop. The Professor was not in their office. He had no idea where they could be for a second, and tried to think of where they were at this time of morning. The only place he could think of was the war room, but he could not face everyone now. Instead, he sat awkwardly in their office and looked around the room, trying to find a casual position for the Professor to find him in. He shifted around in his chair for what felt like an eternity before he finally heard the door open to their room. Their eyes widened in surprise when they saw him there. 

“Hello, Dimitri. I must say this is a surprise.” They said, eyebrow raising slightly. 

“Good Morning, Professor. Do you remember what we discussed last night?” He asked.

They brushed their injured shoulder, which did not have the sling on it this morning. 

“About the girl? Yes. Do you want to see her?” They asked. 

Cold gathered in his stomach, but he breathed and nodded.

The Professor went back out the way they came, and he followed them. The prisoners were held under the main monastery building. They were usually brought up to be judged, a custom that they repeated because of Rhea. Dimitri was aware of how dim the torch light was when he ducked his head into the door that led to the cells. It also reminded him of how angry he had been five years, and his right eye started aching as when he lost it. 

He followed the Professor silently, but pressed his hand on the eye he was thinking about not in the Professor’s view. The cells were mostly empty, and he was not sure if that was a good or bad thing. 

They finally found the cell that the girl was in. It was relatively clean, though he could barely see because of the corner she was huddled in. 

The Professor looked around for a second, before stepping away from the cell. 

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” They promised, and Dimitri was left to get the girl’s attention. It took him way too long- there was a lump beginning to form in his throat trying to figure out why this girl had tried to kill him, but there were so many dead men and women on his hands, and he could not see any similarities between her and any of them. It did not help that their faces were now meshed together in his mind. 

He picked his hand up and hit the bars with a soft knock. The girl looked up, and he was looking at what he was but a few days earlier. Her eyes were full of nothing but rage, and she hit the bars very loudly in an attempt to get him to step back. 

He only continued to stare at her without giving ground. 

“What is your name?” He asked.

“A monster like you can talk, now?” She asked back.

Next to him, his friend bristled, but he watched them until their shoulders relaxed and their hand landed on their hip away from the Sword of the Creator.

“When he wants to.” He answered.

“Please answer the question.” He said, tiredly.

“I don’t owe you anything. Especially after what you did to my brother.” She hissed at him through the bars, and he finally caught a glimpse of steel green hair. 

The Professor himself had not let him do what he wanted to do to the man in question. He had killed him before Dimitri had gotten to touch him. Even through those days spent craving rage and vengeance, he remembered this. He also remembered yelling at the Professor for giving the man an honorable death. 

He looked at the Professor very quickly. They were watching the girl carefully, every movement a threat to their safety and others.

“What is your name?” The Professor echoed the original question, and the girl balked at the new voice. 

“What is it like, to work for a monster?” She asked back.

“It would feel better if we knew your name.” They answered back, rolling their eyes in the process. 

“It’s Fleche, if you must know. My brother, who he killed, was Randolph.” She told them. Every word was spat like she had no cares in the world except his head. And, for once in this life, he had not taken the man’s life. He had not been allowed to. That thought was almost funny, if the situation had not been so dire.

“I did not kill him. I wanted to, but I did not get the chance.” Dimitri told her, and Fleche’s eyes narrowed at him.

“You’re lying!” She accused.

“I have been many things. A liar is not one of them.” Dimitri told her very carefully. The rage in her eyes faded, replaced by cold anger. 

“If you didn’t kill him, who did?” Fleche yelled at him.

“I did.” His friend said next to him. They did not elaborate. Fleche looked at him, and Dimitri saw her eyes brim with tears. 

“I saw you so many times. Why didn’t you say anything?” Fleche asked the Professor.

“Because I did not trust you. After the wound in my shoulder when you tried to kill my friend, I think I was correct in assuming the worst.” They answered, and left.

Dimitri watched Fleche fall to the ground and begin to sob. The only reason she had left to live was based on a misunderstanding. The girl had tried to kill him, and yet Dimitri could do nothing but feel sorry for her. He did not want to watch her cry any longer, so he turned on his heel and left.

“Are you alright, Dimitri?” The Professor asked.

He looked at them.

“I am not sure. I think I need time to process.” He answered them.

“Take all the time you need. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go attend to some things.” They started to walk away, before looking back at him.

“Dimitri… if you need anything, my doors are always open.” They finished, before wandering. Dimitri spent the next week not sleeping very much. He left his room to eat and drink, but that was it, not even stopping to talk to Gilbert, who was guarding his quarters too often for his liking even though Annette was around the monastery. The encounter with Fleche had shaken him, and it had not helped that he had been acting like that right before the Professor had been injured. On the eighth day after he had gone to see Fleche, he left his room, walking by Gilbert, and going toward the main monastery building again. This time, he ascended the stairs, instead of heading to the Cathedral to stare at rocks while his friends risked their lives for everyone at the monastery. He made a decision, then. He was no longer going to listen for the calls for vengeance the ghosts behind him demanded. He was going to be the King that Faerghus needed and make up for all the wrongs he had done to children like Fleche, most of all. He stopped at the doors to the Cardinals Room, and wondered how his friends beyond the door would react when he arrived. Would they, too ostracize him for his treatment towards them? It was too late for such thoughts, however. He took his knuckle and carefully rapped on the door with it. 

The talking from the room went silent. After a few agonizing seconds, the door was open, and Dedue was staring at him again.

“Your Highness?” He asked. 

“Hello, Dedue. I came to attend the war meeting.” Dimitri said. Dedue’s eyes widened with shock, but he allowed him to pass. 

So many eyes were upon him, and the speech he had mentally prepared died in his brain. Instead, he looked across at all of them, including the familiar bright green eyes. 

“I believe I owe all of you an apology for my past behavior.” He began a very long speech.

Afterwards, no one said anything for a very long time. 

“It’s good to have you back, Your Highness!” Annette said, and the silence broke. 

“This is all well and good, but we were in the middle of a war meeting.” Lorenz reminded everyone, and Dimitri took that queue to sit by The Professor. He was greeted with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> -I have alot to talk about here, I know. I do like AM- it's my second favorite route right now (I am working on finishing a Silver Snow run to get a complete list done), but I thought intys was going in a much different route with Dimitri's rehabilitation then they did. It did not dampen or ruin his character for me, more like gave me whiplash and wondered why they even let Fleche into the army to just kill her off in the way they did. I believe that all of it boils down to the fact that the end of all the routes feel rushed and they were running out of time, but I still would have liked to see this play out in game with the parallel of Fleche and Dimitri. Shoutout to my friend Uly though, who this fic would not exist without saying it out loud a couple nights ago in a voicechat.  
> -Enough critique of the game though, thank you for reading this very long explanation, I appreciate every single one of you, and as always, if you want to catch me around the internet, you can find me on twitter, tumblr, and pillowfort @sacredsymbol821


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